


the nature of me

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Mental Illness, pseudologia fantastica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's called pseudologia fantastica ,<br/>and although it might be an interesting name, the meaning might put a damper on that.</p><p>( or maybe where Harry might have a slight problem with lying - the three times he gets away with it, and the one that he doesn't. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	the nature of me

**Author's Note:**

> ( I almost called this 'sweet sun' like the milky chance song but then i figured it was a little irrelevant to the story line )

**one.**

 

Harry wears his hair in a tight bun, careful not to move his head around to much in case any more curls were to fall from the headache inducing hairtie. Such has happened off and on for the past hour and the girl sitting across from him in the library seems mildly concerned that this spindly thing casually reading a Stephen Chbosky book twitches every once and a while.

It isn't until he finally looks up from the page he's skimming does he catch her gaze, unsure of himself when she just keeps on staring. He'd only ever seen people look away quickly or even walk in the opposite direction when they were caught staring, but maybe this girl had something to say.

"Are you alright?" She asks quietly, her thick brown eyebrows knitting towards eachother in concern. 

Harry just smiles and flips the page of his book, sticking his thumb in the middle and closing the cover. "I'm actually wonderful, thank you. And yourself?" 

The girl visibly and audibly stumbles over her words, her lips moving rapidly for a few moments straight. Now it's Harry's turn to be worried. "Y-yes, I just... you were jumping."

"Jumping?"

She nods.

"I was jumping?"

He looks around with his brow furrowed, then back to her. Confused, he says "Are you sure about that?" But before she can even get another word out, he's speaking again. "That's funny, I don't remember jumping. Unless my legs have a mind of their own. But you never know, they're so long... it's hard to keep an eye on them all the time." 

The girl chuckles nervously, covering her mouth with her hand for a short time before offering it towards him to shake. "I'm Teresa."

Harry shakes her hand and opens his book again, his lips turning up into a wry smirk. "Jack."

 

**two.**

 

The thing about their relationship, Zayn and Harry that is, is that you'd never suspect they were dating unless they told you themselves.

In high school, before they even admitted to  _themselves_ they were attracted to eachother, they were so touchy feely that not one person wouldn't assume they were madly in love. Zayn would sit on the bleachers with Harry after school a row behind him and card his fingers through light brown curls while Harry talked about his day and his favourite musicians and artists like he'd borrowed the brain of a pretentious art student.

They would walk down the halls with linked arms, making a scene when they had to part ways like they wouldn't last the rest of the day without the other's company. It was sweet - and by the time they legitimately got together, no one was surprised. 

 

Zayn left his literature course ten minutes early to wait outside Harry's last class of the morning. He knew that Harry would be the last one out, still sitting in his chosen seat a little while after everyone had gone, after the professor had dismissed the class. So, after everyone cleared the entry way, he wandered in and slumped down onto the seat next to his boyfriend. 

"Why do you always do this," He groans half heartedly, plucking an earbud from Harry's ear and holding it up to his own. Zayn laughs loud and sudden, bouncing off the walls like a boomerang. "Ashlee Simpson? Really?"

Harry pouts, snatching the earbud back. "[ _Boys_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObXc526xPuI&=FLyZ82QR3dOyxVX93bDrHbkg&index=186) is my theme song, you know that." 

"I always imagined your theme song being the Addams family theme, with the snaps and everything." Zayn says and lifts his hands in preamble to his next form of teasing, but Harry stops him, placing his hands on Zayn's forearms. "Okay okay, I'll pack up. Just please,  _no._ "

They pack up and walk towards the door, not a sound leaving their mouths until they reach the hall. That's when Zayn steps ahead of him and stops walking, brows raised and everything. "By the way, you remember our anniversary is coming up, right? You're not going to forget and leave me miserable?"

Harry presses his free hand to his chest in mock horror, eyes wide. "Have I ever?"

Zayn's eyebrows furrow in preamble to frustration, which prompts Harry to quickly give another answer. "Of course I remember." He says, even though he actually doesn't.

"And you remember the plans we made last week for that night?"

He gives a nod and a slightly crooked smile. Even though he couldn't remember if he tried.

Harry watches his boyfriend's expression go from suspicious to relieved in a nano second, and he knows that he's off the hook, so he pulls Zayn in by the waist and plants a smacking kiss to the center of his mouth, pulling back with the largest grin. "You're ridiculous." Zayn says it with a condescending lilt, but his smile says otherwise.

 

**three.**

 

"I can't believe I never knew English wasn't your only language." Niall says, disbelievingly, like he's disappointed in himself. He looks down at his coca cola and stirs it around with his straw until the ice starts to melt. Harry just chuckles and takes a long sip from his water glass, shrugging his bony shoulders.

He met up with Niall Horan for lunch at a small diner on campus, unsurprisingly managing to talk about himself for the majority of the time they've been there. Niall doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems intrigued. He's genuinely interested in his old friend's life, but Harry still finds himself watching closely to make sure he isn't feigning interest.

"We've known each other all this time and I've never ever known you're bilingual. What kind of friendship is that? I could've been asking you mediocre questions for you to translate." He pouts, looking ridiculous and sounding even more so with his lips wrapped around his straw. 

 

Harry gulps, somehow his smile never faltering even a bit. He traces his fingertip along the rim of the glass. "Now's your chance, Nialler."

The blonde looks so excited so suddenly it almost freaks him out, placing his palms on the surface of the table as if he was bracing for mass impact of some type. It's ridiculous but hilarious.

"I like pizza."

"Oh please, something else."

Niall repeats the phrase once more for good measure until Harry sighs and gives in.

"Eu gostam de pizza."

Niall smiles so wide, it looks painful. "I eat pizza." 

"Eu come de pizza." 

 

Niall hums and sits back in his seat, taking his drink with him, sipping on it happily. "So cool, bro. So cool."

Harry took one Rosetta Stone lesson last year and gave up after learning the basics. 

 

**four.**

 

Zayn has the prettiest eyes.

Also the nicest voice, and hands, and lips - and the list could go on, and Harry could invite you in for coffee and talk about it for hours, but he's too busy appreciating Zayn's features in real time. 

They sit on Harry's bed one night, playing 'two truths one lie' for one another, which at this point in their relationship ( _and harry's life in general_ ) could go fantastic or horribly wrong.

"You're 5'7," He starts, and Zayn smiles cheekily. "You have a sister.. and your favourite colour is green."

Zayn's smile fades almost immediately. Harry furrows his brow in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Those were all lies, Harry. Not one was true. You're supposed to tell one truth." He frowns.

Harry contemplates starting again, but decides he should give Zayn a chance, just incase he's mad at him - if he wins this round atleast he can have something in this situation to feel relatively good about. "You love bananas, you have a cat named Dusty back home and you've dyed your hair more than once in your life."

He pauses and narrows his eyes to slits. "Your go."

"We should really get to bed, Zayn. Y'know... classes tomorrow morning and that."

"After you tell me something. What day of the week is our anniversary?"

Harry frowns and lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, all of a sudden looking a lot smaller. "It's common to forget anniversaries." But that doesn't go over very well with Zayn, as he raises his eyebrows and thus the argument over Harry's lying begins, lasting a good half hour consisting of yelling and stomping around the apartment before they somehow end back up in Harry's bed - breathing steadily in simultaneous puffs. 

"My mom invited us out for my birthday dinner."

Zayn breathes, his hands resting on his stomach, eyes trained on the ceiling. "Ohkay, so I'll make sure I'm free on Wednesday, then. I'll need you to tell me the time, though, cause I have a busy day and-." 

Harry stirs a little and then chuckles. "Why?"

"For your birthday..?"

His eyes widen and he turns his head to the side to look at Zayn's profile, which still looks confused even from this angle. 

"My birthday is on Thursday."

 

**the end.**

**Author's Note:**

> so basically zayn got mad at him for forgetting their anniversary but he ending up forgetting harry's birthday  
> im not sure if i clarified that ahah im really tired.
> 
> // babyytarzan.tumblr.com


End file.
